


Helping

by hamelott



Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Fangs of Doom aftermath, M/M, flynn does his best, werewolf!ezekiel, zeke appreciates it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 10:04:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10660284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamelott/pseuds/hamelott
Summary: Prompt: Could you write some Flynn/Ezekiel where Flynn is helping Ezekiel with the werewolf stuff? Youre so good at replying to request in this fandom, you're a hero!rarepairs and werewolves, my favorite things





	Helping

When Ezekiel woke up, he felt sick to his stomach and had a headache pounding through his skull. He reached up to feel his face and was disappointed to feel the fine hairs that still rested there. He did note they seemed to be thinning out, but it was going slowly. Distantly, he wondered how long he’d been asleep.

“Are you awake?” Ezekiel heard. He immediately recognized the stage whisper as Flynn’s voice. “Or are you just moving in your sleep? You’ve done it, like, ten times now which is why I’m asking. Earlier, you scratched your arm and I jumped up to grab everyone only to return to you snoring. Needless to say, they were not happy with me. I mean-.”

“Stop talking, Flynn,” Ezekiel muttered.

“Oh! You are awake,” Flynn said, and Ezekiel was weirded out to hear both surprise and relief in his voice. He would’ve never pegged Flynn as the type to worry about him so much that he sat at his bedside until he woke up. It was…weird.

What was also weird was the fact that everything seemed heightened to his senses. Flynn’s whispering sounded like talking; Ezekiel was worried what his regular volume would sound like and was suddenly grateful for Flynn’s quiet tone whether it was intentional or not. His sense of smell was also going crazy on him too. He could smell Flynn’s body cologne even from where he was sitting, a slightly salty smell that reminded him of meet, and even the overwhelming scent of whatever flower he was sure Cassandra he brought for him. He was suddenly afraid to open his eyes, aware of how bright the room was from underneath his eyelids.

Flynn, as if he could read his mind, said, “Don’t open your eyes yet. Your senses should be going haywire right now, hence my whispering. The lights would kill you if you opened your eyes.”

He heard Flynn stand up and walk across the room to where, Ezekiel presumed, a light switch rested on the wall. He waited a few heartbeats until Flynn said, “Okay, you should be good.”

Slowly, Ezekiel cracked open his eyes and was met with a dim room. Or, at least, he assumed it was dim because to him it felt like a regularly lit room. Flynn stood across from him next too a dimmer dial with a tiny grin on his face. He had to squint in order to make out Ezekiel’s face, but when he noticed Ezekiel’s eyes open, he asked, “Is this okay? It doesn’t hurt does it?”

Ezekiel shook his head, muttering, “No…no, it’s fine.”

Flynn, looking immensely proud of himself, walked back over to Ezekiel and plopped into the chair that had been set up next to the bed Ezekiel as lying in. Ezekiel glanced around the room and realized he must be in one of Jenkins’s ‘Rest Rooms.’ Ezekiel had only been in it once before, but Jacob, a prime target for bad guy’s fists, was a partial resident.

Ezekiel let the world around him get a little more into focus and a little quieter before he asked, “What’re you doing in here?”

“Uh,” Flynn stammered. “I was just…making sure you…well, you see.” He stopped himself and pulled out a little plastic baggie from behind him and proffered to Ezekiel. “Jerky?”

Well, that certainly explained the salty smell Ezekiel had discovered earlier. It also made him realize just how hungry he was. He snatched the bag from Flynn’s hands, pulled out a piece, and stuck it in his mouth to begin chewing on it. Around the piece of meat, he said, “That still doesn’t answer the question, mate.”

“Well, it’s…nothing.” He picked up a mug that sat on Ezekiel’s bedside table and held it out to Ezekiel. “Drink this.”

Ezekiel cocked his eyebrows at it, sniffing tentatively at the air. Once he caught a whiff of it, his nose scrunched up and he shied away from Flynn. “Uh, what is it?”

“Wolfsbane tea,” Flynn told him. “You’ve already had some. I mean, you were asleep, but it’s the only reason you’re not running around right now and howling at the moon.”

Ezekiel, reluctantly, grabbed the mug and drained it. It tasted disgusting. After he’d swallowed it all down, he bit childishly into his piece of jerky, trying to wash the bad taste out of his mouth.

In the chair, Flynn sat nervously. His hands twitched in his lap and his knee was bouncing erratically. Ezekiel glanced at him every so often to find Flynn watching him intently with wide eyes while biting his lap as if he wanted to say something but wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to say.

Eventually, Ezekiel was tired of Flynn making the hairs on the back of his neck (and cheeks, and arms, and back, and even some on his hands and god if Jenkins’s potion didn’t work he was going to be shaving for weeks) stand up and snapped, “What, Flynn?”

Flynn, startled, stammered, “What ‘what?’ What’s up? I’m fine, myself. What’s up with-?”

Ezekiel sighed and cut him off with, “I mean, what’s with the staring? You’re looking at me like I died and came back to life or something.”

“Well,” Flynn murmured, and even Ezekiel with his heightened hearing had to strain his ears to listen, “you did, didn’t you? Or, at least, I thought you did…”

And, it almost seemed like Flynn felt guilty about it. Except, that couldn’t be right. When had big, cocky Flynn Carsen ever felt guilty about anything, especially when it came to Ezekiel Jones? That was silly. Ezekiel was crazy for ever thinking it.

Except, Ezekiel was a thief and, as a thief, he was pretty good at reading people. And the way Flynn was hunched over in his chair, eyes focused on his own hands and refusing to meet Ezekiel’s, were all pretty good indicators to the guilt Ezekiel heard in his voice as being real.

Ezekiel, despite the situation, felt a grin growing across his face. He said, keeping his voice quiet like Flynn’s, “Do you feel bad about what happened?”

Flynn glanced up at that and, instead of denying it like Ezekiel expected him to, he just sighed and let his head hang back down again. Slowly, he nodded. “Yeah…I guess I do. We wouldn’t have gone there if it hadn’t been for me. You certainly wouldn’t have gotten bit if I hadn’t dragged you through that base in the first place. And you definitely wouldn’t have gone back out there if I hadn’t told you all that ‘friend versus foe’ smell stuff.”

Ezekiel’s smile was gone now and had pulled down into a frown. “Flynn, you know I’d love to point fingers at you any time of the day, but none of that was your fault. Had you been there or not, I still would’ve done the exact same things that I did. Believe it or not, what you say doesn’t hold much influence over me.”

At that, Flynn did crack a little grin. “Oh, trust me, I am well aware of that.” He sighed again and the smile slipped away again. “But that doesn’t excuse the fact that I put all of you in danger. I should have gotten you out of there when I realized you were bit, I should have gotten us out of there when I found out the facility was going to blow, I should have-.”

“Flynn, mate,” Ezekiel interrupted him, “stop with the ‘should haves’ and ‘what ifs.’ What happened happened, I understand that. I know the risks that go along with this job, and if I wasn’t fully capable of handling them, I would leave. But I’m not going to because I understand them. I’m a Librarian.”

Flynn looked up at him then, and Ezekiel was surprised to find admiration glowing in his eyes. Slowly, Flynn nodded. He stared at Ezekiel for a few more heartbeats until he shook his head sharply and began to stand up, saying, “I should get out of your hair. Uh, no joke intended there. What I meant was that I should-.”

“Don’t,” Ezekiel said, voice sounding a bit more desperate than he wanted it to. His hand darted out to wrap around Flynn’s wrist. When Flynn glanced down at him, he shrugged sheepishly. “Everything is a bit…overwhelming. You being in here…it helps.”

“Are you sure?” Flynn asked, but Ezekiel could see the hopefulness in his eyes; he wanted to stay.

Ezekiel nodded, grinning a tiny smile at him. “Yeah…you help.”

Flynn let a soft smile spread across his lips and sat back down again. His hand slid down and curled around Ezekiel’s. It was warm and slightly bigger, and it felt nice with his.

Flynn felt nice. It was something he’d never thought he’d say, but here he was, thinking it.

Ezekiel found himself glad that he did.

**Author's Note:**

> This was so much fun! I always enjoy writing about new ships, and if I get to play with werewolf Ezekiel so more then awesome! Hope you enjoyed this silly little fic :)


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